


Small Love

by benmitchells



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: (only a little bit tho), 5+1 Things, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benmitchells/pseuds/benmitchells
Summary: As if to drive the point home, Ben says “See? I can behave when I want to.”“You’re still a nightmare, though.” Callum tells him, though his arm curls closer around Ben’s shoulders so he can cradle his head. He feels the reverberation of Ben’s satisfied hum buzz throughout his whole body.“You love me really.”A disbelieving scoff. “You’re lucky you’re good looking.”Ben’s head shoots up look at him, devious sparkle in his eye. “You think I’m good looking?”Callum uses his hand on Ben’s head to force him to look back at the screen, mostly just so he won’t see the way he’s blushing.“Just shut up and watch the film.”ORThe 5 times someone uses the word 'love' + the 1 time they use it properly.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 32
Kudos: 224





	Small Love

**Author's Note:**

> aka the long road to what should have been ben and callum's first ily :-(
> 
> i've been writing this for months, but this is also for the anon on tumblr who asked for ballum at new years!! kind of cheating but it still counts lmao
> 
> i hope you enjoy this because i really did put my heart and soul into this one
> 
> <3

“As it has been said:  
Love and a cough  
cannot be concealed.  
Even a small cough.  
Even a small love.”

– _Small Wire,_ Anne Sexton

1.

“You’re not making this any easier for her, you know?”

Callum eyes snap away from Whitney, back to Ben. He has this look on his face – he doesn’t look annoyed, but he doesn’t look not-annoyed, either. Callum watches as he takes a swig from his beer bottle, licking his lips as he puts it back down. Their eyes don’t leave each other’s once.

“What?”

“You, ogling her from across the pub. It ain’t doing her any favours.” Ben shifts slightly, tucking one hand between his thighs and leaning the other arm across the back of the booth. There’s only a few inches between the tips of his fingers and Callum’s shoulder. “Not to mention the fact that I might start getting the wrong idea in a minute.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know exactly where I want to be.” Callum immediately assures him – he’s getting used to Ben’s teasing now, slowly realizing that he’s just a wind up by default, but whenever he says things like that it still makes a throb of panic slice through him like a hot knife. “It’s just- she looks so sad.”

“Of course she does – I’m sat over here on a hot date with the bloke she was supposed to marry while she’s sat over there guzzling wine like it’s water with _Sonia,_ of all people- would you _stop_ looking over there?”

“Sorry.” Callum drops his eyes. His hands have begun fiddling with a sodden beer mat; folding it, tearing it, pulling it apart. This time he knows exactly what the look on Ben’s face is: curiosity. “You should be nicer about Sonia, you know. She did save your life.”

Ben holds his hands up. “Listen, give the woman a biro and paring knife and she can work miracles but that doesn’t make her any less _dull_.”

Callum shakes his head, but he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re going to give Whitney a complex if you keep staring at her. Don’t think she ain’t noticed.” His eyebrows raise slightly. “She keeps looking over here when you’re not looking.”

Callum feels a disbelieving smile pull at his mouth. “And how would you know that if you’re not looking yourself?”

Ben’s mouth pulls into a smile of his own. “Had to keep an eye on her, didn’t I? In case any rogue drinks came flying our way.”

“Oh, and what would you have done? Jumped in front of them for me?”

“Might’ve done.” And now, now Ben has that look on his face that Callum adores; the cocky, self assured smirk, the slightly hooded eyes. It makes his stomach coil up tight with _something_ ; he had convinced himself it was annoyance at one point – hate, even – but that’s never what it was. He still hasn’t quite pinned down _what_ it is exactly, but he has some ideas. “Or I might’ve just let you take it. Bet you’d look proper sexy in a wet shirt.”

It’s _definitely_ not hate. “Oh yeah, because having a glass of house white chucked in my face is real wet t-shirt contest material ain’t it?”

“I have a very active imagination.” There’s a moment of heavy eye contact where Callum feels his face heat up (Ben keeps doing that to him – making him feel like a blushing, fumbling teenager with just a look. He doesn’t hate that, either), but just as he opens his mouth to come up with some witty comeback, Ben’s face goes uncharacteristically serious. “Seriously though, Callum, I know you’re worried about her but I don’t think you’re helping matters by looking over at her every thirty seconds.”

“What d’you mean?”

Ben sighs, shifting in his seat again. He’s pulled his arm off the back of the booth now, both hands tucked between his thighs. He looks small, closed off. Callum frowns. “When we first walked in, she looked like she wanted our heads on a silver platter – _both_ of our heads. But now she just looks,” he pauses, pulling his lips into a line, “confused.”

“Confused, what do you mean conf-”

“Like mixed signals confused.” Annoyance has started to filter through, his mouth doing that thing it does whenever Ben gets annoyed. “Like she can’t figure out why her ex-fiancé won’t stop staring at her when he’s on a date with someone else.”

All Callum can do is continue to frown, blinking in his own confusion. “But she knows that’s not-”

“Does she?” Ben asks, voice suddenly sharp. “Because to be perfectly honest, Callum, I’m starting to feel like a bit of a third wheel myself, so I can hardly blame her if she’s starting to get the wrong idea.”

“Ben,” Callum reaches out for the first part of Ben’s body he can reach – his palm curls over his knee, “you know it’s nothing like that. I’m just worried about her as a mate, that’s all.” That hot knife panic is back, only this time it’s worse because this isn’t teasing, this is serious. He digs his fingers into Ben’s knee, willing him to understand. Praying he hasn’t fucked this up already. “I didn’t even realize I was looking over there that much.”

“Clearly.” There’s something petulant in it, but there’s a small smile on Ben’s face now. Callum lets out a breath and smiles back.

“I promise, I won’t look over there again.”

“That’s not what- I’m not saying you can’t _care_ about her.” Ben brings his own hand and rests it on top of Callum’s on his knee. “Even if that was what I was saying it wouldn’t work, would it? You’re too soft.” He smile lets Callum know he’s only teasing. “I just think that maybe you should think about it from her perspective. What you being so nice and caring is doing to her. She’s still in love with you, Cal.” He says softly, a surprisingly sad smile on his face. “And she keeps catching you staring at her from across the pub-”

“You think I’m giving her false hope.” Ben doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. “But I’m with you. I’m _gay_ – she knows that.”

“She’s still in love with you.” Ben repeats, and it’s explanation enough.

Callum slumps against the back of the booth. His hand slides off of Ben’s knee and onto the seat between them, but Ben’s hand goes with it. He links their fingers together loosely. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t. You’re just too nice.” He rubs his thumb against Callum’s finger. “There are worse flaws to have.”

“And I ain’t being fair on you either.”

Ben scrunches his nose. “I’m sure I’ll live.”

Staring down at their joined hands, Callum turns his hand over and curls their fingers together again. He runs his thumb across Ben’s scarred knuckles. “How do I make it better?”

“Stop being so loveable?” Ben suggests with a heavy sigh. Callum lets out a puff of laughter.

“I meant with you.”

“Stop being so loveable?” He suggests again; he manages to keep his face serious for a moment, before a smile breaks across his face. Something warm and electric ripples through Callum’s body from his head down. “If you really want to make it up to me, you can start by getting me another drink.”

Callum – who for some reason has become hyper aware of where they’re joined at the hands – furrows his brow in faux scrutiny. “Start?”

Ben hums, the sound of it satisfied. He has that cocky look back on his face. Callum has never been more glad to see it. “You have spent half of our date staring at your ex so I do expect you to do some significant grovelling. Although I do have some other ideas in mind if you _really_ want to make it up to me, but they aren’t the kind of thing we could get away with doing in the middle of a pub. The middle of a _park_ , however…”

“ _Terrible_.” Callum shakes his head and pretends to be put out, despite the way he feels himself flush. _Again_. It’s starting to become something of a pattern.

“Go on then, I’m parched over here.”

Callum can’t help himself – he leans over and kisses Ben, his free hand reaching out to pull him closer by the back of his neck. It takes a second for Ben to catch up, but when he does he kisses back with just as much vigour, taking hold of Callum’s wrist. Callum can feel his smile.

It’s a good kiss. Probably a little but too much for the middle of the pub on a Thursday evening, but in that moment Callum can’t bring himself to care. He’s happy. He feels it all the way down to his fingertips. Because the thrill hasn’t gone – the thrill of being able to kiss a man in public. Being able to kiss Ben where everyone can see. It’s still scary, too, but it’s becoming less and less so each time. He hopes one day it’ll be gone altogether.

When they pull back, Ben’s lips are shiny, a little bit red. He has that dazed look in his eye he gets sometimes when Callum kisses him. That look is equally as thrilling.

Everything about Ben is.

“Well we certainly don’t have to worry about Whitney getting the wrong impression anymore.”

Callum laughs and lets go of Ben’s face with some reluctance. “I’ll go get that drink then.”

As he slides out of the booth, he hears Ben make a noise of protest. “Can’t we just skip to the fun stuff instead?”

“Are you saying I’m not fun?”

“I’m saying you _are_ the fun stuff.”

All Callum can do is smile. That’s all he seems to be able to do lately.

“Later.” He promises, giving Ben’s hand one last squeeze before he gets up.

2.

Callum should have known he’d only be able to keep it a secret for so long.

Stupidly, _stupidly_ he had hoped Ben would never find out, that he’d be able to keep it secret somehow. But Callum has never been very good at keeping secrets at the best of times (big gay secret aside, obviously), and this is _Ben Mitchell_ – he should have known better. That man could get blood from a stone if he wanted it bad enough. Callum didn’t stand a chance.

And now Ben is pulling himself away from Callum’s chest, his eyes wide as they look up at him, his mouth slightly parted in shock. He’s gone very still. Callum wishes he could take the last 30 seconds back, do them over.

Ben leans up onto his elbows.

“Callum Highway, are you _ticklish_?”

“No.” Callum answers too fast, too ready for the question. Ben’s eyes widen even further.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m not.”

“Callum-”

“I’m _not_ -”

“Right, so if I do this-”

Callum grabs a hold of Ben’s hand before it can get to his ribcage; he knows it gives him away more than any words could, but it’s necessary at this point. His ribs are the most ticklish part of him.

Ben now has this terrible, shit eating grin on his face like he’s just won the lottery; like he’s just followed the rainbow and found the pot of gold. The mattress shifts as he wriggles around, trying to sit up properly with his hand still in Callum’s grip. Eventually he manages it.

“ _Babe,_ ” is all he says, his eyes lit up menacingly from the light of the laptop screen. The movie they were watching plays on, forgotten.

“Ben, if you dare-”

“How did I not realize?” Ben says, his voice full of wonder. “You always get weird when I touch your chest. I just thought you were self conscious.”

“I didn’t want you finding out.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’ve just handed me a loaded gun.”

As Ben says that, his other hand darts across to try and tickle him. Callum manages to catch it by the wrist, just as Ben fingers skim his side; his body squirms away instinctively, the laptop sliding from Callum’s legs onto the duvet further down the bed, tipping backwards so it’s sitting on its lid. Callum can’t think about that right now, though. He has bigger things to worry about.

Ben tries to tug his hands out of Callum’s hold, but he keeps his grip firm. “Oh, so this is how you’re gonna play it?”

“ _This_ is self defence.” Callum tells him, holding on tighter as Ben starts to pull harder. “Pull all you want, I’m not letting go until you swear to me you’re not gonna tickle me.”

Ben stops pulling, looks him square in the face. “Is that a challenge?”

Callum’s stomach drops.

“Ben, no- Ben, don’t, don’t!”

Ben sits up on his knees and leans all his weight into Callum’s arms, forcing him flat onto his back, and then manages to get one leg over his waist and sit on him, effectively pinning him down, before squeezing his thighs together, his knees digging into Callum’s sides. Callum squirms, his elbows coming down and trying to force themselves between his body and Ben’s legs to form a barrier, all without letting go of Ben’s hands.

“Ben,” Callum cries, breathless with laughter, “your laptop is gonna fall off the bed and I ain’t- Ben, stop it!”

Ben’s using Callum’s grip on his hands to lift their arms up, forcing Callum’s elbows out of their defensive position. “Just let go of my hands and accept your fate, Callum!” He says, his voice is strained with effort. After a moment he gives up, and Callum’s elbows immediately go back down to his sides. “You’re such a spoilsport.”

“And you’re evil.”

“You can’t just expect me to find out something like that and not test it out for myself!”

“I don’t like being tickled.” Callum tells him, trying to convey just how serious he’s being right now in spite of the smile on his face. “I mean it, Ben, I really don’t.”

Ben pulls a face, but Callum feels the last bit of resistance drain out of him. “Alright, alright – I promise I won’t tickle you.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.” Callum squints his eyes at him, considering. Ben holds out one pinky finger as an offering, “I’d pinky promise you if I could, but I can’t, so-”

“If you dare-”

“Callum, I _promise_ you I will behave myself.” Ben assures him, eyes wide – with honesty, this time.

Callum lets go.

Ben slides off of Callum but doesn’t go very far, pressing himself into his side instead. He reaches out one arm only to recover the laptop and pull it back towards them, then to grab Callum’s closest hand and pull his arm around his shoulders, manoeuvring them into a more comfortable position with Ben’s head on Callum’s chest. He fidgets for a moment, then settles properly.

As if to drive the point home, Ben says “See? I can behave when I want to.”

“You’re still a nightmare, though.” Callum tells him, though his arm curls closer around Ben’s shoulders so he can cradle his head. He feels the reverberation of Ben’s satisfied hum buzz throughout his whole body.

“You love me really.”

A disbelieving scoff. “You’re lucky you’re good looking.”

Ben’s head shoots up look at him, devious sparkle in his eye. “You think I’m good looking?”

Callum uses his hand on Ben’s head to force him to look back at the screen, mostly just so he won’t see the way he’s blushing.

“Just shut up and watch the film.”

3.

Ben’s having the day from hell. A very normal and boring hell, but hell all the same.

It started when not one, but two of his mechanics called in sick. Keanu had called him at the car lot to let him know, and then to ask him to come and help out; they were overbooked as it was, apparently, and there’s no way Keanu could possibly do it all on his own. Ben had said that was their fault for overbooking themselves, not his. Keanu had told him that they had a lady who was notorious for leaving bad reviews online coming to pick her car up this afternoon expecting a full MOT and service, which he hadn’t even started because he had three other jobs he needed to do today. He had then taken it upon himself to politely remind Ben that bad reviews can ruin a business, _Ben’s_ business, and that it’d be _Ben_ who would suffer if they lost customers – not Keanu, who would still continue collect his wages every month like normal.

Ben had swore at him, told him to start on the MOT and that he’d be there in half an hour.

Only problem was that he was supposed to be working at the car lot today. And Ben, he can do a lot of things, but he cannot be in two places at once.

He hovers in the middle of the car lot office for a while, trying to decide what to do – because no matter what he did, he was bound to lose business either way. And he had a guy on a promise to come and pick up a Ford Fiesta he’d been trying to shift for months at lunch time, which he can’t really afford to lose, but he can’t afford to have a bad review put off potential customers from coming to the Arches either – there are hundreds of garages in East London, it would be so easy to go elsewhere.

In the end it comes down to the fact that _technically_ , the car lot isn’t his business. The Arches is. And worst case scenario, the lot loses out on a couple of potential buyers. Some days are slow. Just because Ben was there doesn’t mean anyone would have shown up – not even the Fiesta guy, though both him and Jay had been hoping for that one.

Ben does write a ‘We are open for business – call for enquiries’ sign with his number on it and hangs it on the door as he leaves, just for good measure. He tries to ring Jay a couple of times on his way to the garage to see if he can put in a few hours – he even tries Callum so he can pass the message on, but both their phones go to voicemail, so he sends Jay a text instead, briefly explaining the situation and telling him to call him if he can.

At least no one can say he didn’t try.

Ben’s day only gets worse from there – when he gets to the Arches Keanu makes him take one of the cars on a drive to test the brake pads (Ben can’t quite believe that Keanu made him shut up the car lot and rush over to the garage to help him because he’s snowed under, only to prioritize _brake pads,_ but the woman had young kids, apparently, and can’t afford to be driving around with busted brakes; Ben only does it to get away from Keanu for a little while before he does anything stupid), only he gets stuck behind a bin lorry and a journey that should have been five minutes ends up being 15. Then Keanu makes him work outside on one of the cars instead of working _inside_ because Keanu already has a car in the bay and ‘if we both work on one car we’ll just get in each other’s way’. Ben asks him why _he_ should be the one working outside when it’s his garage. Keanu looks at him as if he’s a child throwing a tantrum. But really, Ben thinks the fact that _doesn’t_ wrap a spanner around his head is a sign of maturity, even if the only reason he doesn’t is because he needs him to be able to finish all this work on time.

And then he gets the dreaded phone call from Jay.

He sighs to himself as pulls off one of his latex gloves, trying to prepare himself for an onslaught. He realizes that lunchtime has been and gone, and he’s had no phone calls, meaning his chances of selling that Fiesta have been and gone too.

“Hello?”

“I’ve only just got your message,” Jay says immediately. It sounds like he’s walking somewhere, “did you manage to sort it?”

“I left a sign on the door but the bloke was supposed to come about lunchtime I ain’t heard nothing, so.”

“Nightmare.” Jay sighs, though he sounds more annoyed than angry. “That Fiesta’s been sitting out there for months.”

“I know.” Ben braces for an argument – he’s not above reminding Jay that the only reason that place is turning a profit at _all_ is because Ben’s been running it for him – but all he can hear is movement. Ben hears a door, open, close, and suddenly the line gets a lot quieter, like he’s just gone inside.

“I would’ve gone over there myself, but I’ve been at a funeral all morning.”

“It’s not your fault, is it?” Ben tells him, surprised at how well Jay’s taking this. “I should’ve been there, but my mechanics all simultaneously decided to ring in sick. Can’t get the staff, ay?” He looks over at Keanu as he speaks, who’s pretending he isn’t listening in. Jay hums. “I’m just sorry I lost out on the sale.”

“Can’t be helped, can it? I’m sure we’ll get rid of it eventually.” He says, surprising Ben again, and then he says, “You still at the Arches?”

“Yeah. Probably gonna be here all day at this rate.”

“Your mum picking up Lexi then?”

Ben frowns, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No, why would she be? Lola’s picking her up today.”

“No, Lola’s on a course today – some hairdressing thing.” Jay says in that slow way he does when he thinks Ben’s being stupid; he can practically see the look on his face. “And anyway it’s Wednesday. You always pick her up on Wednesdays.”

“What are you talking about, it’s Tuesday.” He says it with as much confidence as he can muster, though he already has a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“No, it’s-” Ben pulls his phone away from his face to check the screen before he can hear the rest of Jay’s sentence. Wednesday. 2:43pm. Fuck. _Fuck_.

At least he hasn’t actually missed out on selling that Fiesta, he thinks a little hysterically.

“Fuck, fuck- Jay can you-”

“I can’t, Ben; the funeral run over so I’m already behind as it is.” He sees Keanu look over from the corner of his eye, a frown on his face. “Can’t you ask your mum?”

“I can ask, but I know she’s got a delivery at the Albert she needs to be in for at some point today.”

“Ian?”

“He’s at the restaurant.”

“He can leave a few hours early so he can look after his niece, can’t he?”

“When have you ever known Ian to do favours for anyone?” Jay makes noise of acknowledgement. Ben pulls his hand out of his hair, balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he can take the other glove off. His hand runs over his face. “I’ll just have to ask my dad, or Sharon, or Billy. I’m sure there’s someone. If push comes to shove I’ll just have to go and pick her up myself, keep her here with me.”

“I thought you was busy.”

“I am busy, but I’m not gonna leave Lexi stranded at school, am I?” Ben snaps, now struggling to stand still.

And it’s not the end of the world, it really isn’t. But it’s just another thing that’s gone wrong in a day full of very few things going right.

Ben hears Jay sigh, the sound of it muffling through his speaker. There’s a brief pause.

“Hang on,” Jay says suddenly; Ben hears movement on the other end again, “wait there.”

There’s some shuffling, some muffled voices as Jay talks to someone but Ben can’t make out who it is or what’s being said.

“You having a nice little conversation over there?” Ben’s distracted enough that the sound of Keanu’s voice makes him jump slightly; he’s stopped what he’s doing altogether now, his attention fully on Ben. “Only we’ve got work to be doing.”

“Is that that the way you speak to all your bosses, or just me? Then again your only other boss is my dad and I’m not convinced you wouldn’t wipe his arse if he told you to – it’s the lack of father figure, I think, what with yours not being around when you were growing up.” Ben pulls a ‘that’s too bad’ face; he notices Keanu start to puff up slightly in that way he does when he starts getting defensive. It’s satisfying, and Ben would love nothing more than to blow off some steam by winding him up some more, but he doesn’t really have the time. “If you must know, I’m trying to find someone to pick my daughter up from school so I don’t have to leave you to do all this work on your own.” Keanu’s mouth snaps shut. “And anyway, I think you’ll find that _you_ have work to be doing, while _I’m_ doing you a favour.”

Keanu opens his mouth to argue, but Jay comes back to the phone so Ben turns away from him. “Callum’s gonna pick her up.”

“ _Callum_?” Ben sputters, a little bit louder than he intended if the echo is anything to go by. He darts a quick look back at Keanu; thankfully he’s turned back to the engine. “You asked Callum?” He asks, quieter.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem, is it? I know he’s picked up Lexi with you before so he’ll know where to go, and it’s not like they don’t get on.” A pause. “I thought she liked him.”

“She does, that’s not-” Ben has resuming his pacing, “it’s just a big ask for someone I’ve been going out with for about _five minutes_.”

“Well he seems enough happy to do it.”

“That don’t mean you should have _asked-_ ”

“Oh I can’t win with you, can I?”

“I thought the parlour was busy, anyway?” He forces himself to stop pacing, but now his fingers have started to drum on the hood of the car. He knows Callum struggles to say no to people, even when it’s something he doesn’t want to do; Jay should know that. And Ben doesn’t want Callum to feel like he’s taking advantage of him, or that he’s asking for too much too soon. Not that Ben had even been the one to ask. “Are you sure you can spare him?”

“Uh, I did run this place practically single-handedly before he got here.” Jay huffs indignantly. Ben hears someone speaking on the other end of the line, far enough away from the phone that he can’t make out the words. “Right, well Callum’s leaving now so any messages you need me to pass onto him?”

“Are you sure he’s alright with this?”

Jay sighs, but repeats the question to Callum.

“He says yes.”

“Alright well tell him he can come get my keys off me if he wants to take Lexi back to mine instead of having her run around his place. She can play with her own stuff that way.” Jay start to relay the message. “And if she starts getting to be too much hard work or he’s got stuff he needs to be doing then he can just bring her here and I’ll-”

Jay’s laughter forces Ben to stop talking.

“Ben sends his love.” He hears him say.

“Jay!” He cries indignantly as Jay says his goodbyes to Callum, still laughing. “This ain’t funny! You’ve just thrown Callum in at the deep end.”

“You worry too much. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” The amusement is still evident in his voice. “Now is that everything? Because I’ve got twice as much work to do now thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me? No one asked you to-”

“Don’t forget to ring the school and all,” Jay continues, ignoring him, “let them know Callum’s coming so they don’t think he’s some weirdo trying to steal your daughter.”

Ben sighs. The situation is less than ideal, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, he supposes. He doesn’t really have any other options right now, anyway. “Yes, alright, thank you Jay.”

“And ring me later and let me know how it goes an’ all!”

“What happened to ‘I’m sure it’ll all be fine’?”

There’s a pause. “Well, at least you know if he can handle Lexi on his own, he can handle whatever else this family might throw at him.”

Ben hangs up on him.

The only good thing about being so busy is that Ben doesn’t have time to worry. It still hits him every now and then, when he has a moment to think, but to be perfectly honest he’s not really worried about Lexi. He knows she’s in good hands; he trusts Callum, and he trusts him to look after his daughter. If he’s being honest, Callum is probably ten times more trustworthy than half of Ben’s family, so realistically, she probably couldn’t be in safer hands.

No, Ben’s not worried about Lexi. He’s worried about _Callum_.

Ben adores his daughter. He loves the bones of her; wouldn’t change a single thing about her if he could. But he’s also not blind or ignorant. He knows Lexi can be a handful sometimes – she’s got her father’s mouth and her mother’s attitude, which are bad enough on their own, never mind together – especially when she comes home from school hyper. Especially when she thinks she can get away with it. And Callum is nothing if not a soft touch.

Lexi even has Phil wrapped around her little finger, in a way Ben hadn’t even known was _possible_. He’ll give her anything she asks for; let her get away with anything without reprimand. So really, Callum stands no chance if Lexi decides she’s going to do the same to him.

God, Ben just hopes she’s behaved herself. That she hasn’t somehow talked him into buying her sweets and isn’t currently running him ragged with a sugar rush.

Hopes that being exposed to the reality of dating a man with a kid hasn’t completely scared Callum off.

But there’s no point in worrying about it now, he supposes. If the damage has been done, the damage has been done. It’s probably for the better that it happens now, anyway, rather than down the line.

So maybe he worries a little bit, but it’s a distant worry that only comes back to him when he’s doing something mindless (he’s lost count of the amount of MOTs and services he’s done in his time, and there’s only so many times you can change the oil of a car before it becomes second nature and your mind starts to wonder).

Callum doesn’t come by to drop Lexi off, though, or even to ask for his house keys. Ben gets no panicked phone calls, no texts asking what time he’s going to be picking her up – which is a good sign. He hopes that’s a good sign. Regardless, he does his best not to dwell on it.

Between the pair of them, him and Keanu manage to get a lot of the work done. The two MOTs get finished on time – the review lady even leaves with a smile on her face, once Ben butters her up a bit. All in all, things could have gone a lot worse.

Once it’s gone six and there’s only one car they haven’t managed to finish, Ben finally decides to call it a day. Even the car the they hadn’t managed to finish was mostly done – certainly enough was done that Keanu and the other mechanics would be able to work on it tomorrow morning and have it done on time, so that’s exactly what he tells Keanu. Ben’s done more than his fair share. This isn’t even his job anymore, technically – and he tells Keanu that, too. Then Ben tells him to lock up and go home or he’ll have Louise moaning at him tomorrow about forcing Keanu to work late, and he leaves him to it.

Ben heads towards the Square, pulling out his phone to call Callum. He picks up after the third ring. “Hello?”

“Alright?” Ben replies, taking note of the fact that Callum doesn’t sound stressed out or like he’s on the verge of tears. A good sign. “I’ve just left work, where are ya?”

“We’re just in the cafe, Lexi’s just had dinner- sorry,” he suddenly sounds worried, “I know I should have asked before I just got her something, but she was getting hungry and I thought-”

“You don’t need to be sorry for feeding my daughter in my mum’s cafe, Callum.” He tells him; Callum laughs. “I’m on my way, I’ll be five minutes yeah?”

“Alright. Do you want me to order you anything?”

“I’m gasping for a tea, if you’re offering.”

“What about food? Have you eaten?”

“Nah, I’ll eat later.”

“It’s getting late though, you should probably eat. Did you even have lunch?”

Ben laughs aloud, shaking his head to himself. “You’re worse than my mother, you.” He says, and Callum laughs again, the sound of it embarrassed. “Just order me a tea, I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Alright, see you in a minute.”

It’s not even a minute later that Ben’s stepping through the door of the cafe, the smell of food heavy in the air, making is stomach clench in hunger. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and now he’s craving a fry-up.

His mum is behind the counter, wiping it down as she prepares to close up – she looks up as she hears the door go. Ben smiles at her in greeting, but the look she gives him in return is unusually serious, causing his smile to slip into a frown. She beckons him over.

“Listen, I know I make comments about you finding a steady boyfriend all the time,” she starts as soon as he’s within earshot, her voice so low Ben has to lean towards her to hear her properly, “but honestly Ben, if you don’t hold on to that boy with both hands, you’re a madman.”

The confusion must show on Ben’s face because Kathy nods her head towards the back of the cafe as if to say _look_. Ben follows her gaze and turns to see Callum sat at the furthest table, by the jukebox, his back to the rest of the cafe. He can just make out the blonde crown of Lexi’s head over his shoulder. She’s sat in his lap. Neither of them seem to have realized he’s here.

The sound of a cup being put down on the counter startles him out of stupor; his mum slides his tea towards him, then pats his arm with a strange smile. Like she knows something he doesn’t.

Ben picks up the cup, frowning at her, and makes towards the table.

There are only a few other people still in the cafe and none of them are paying him any attention to him, so he decides to hang back slightly, hovering just behind Callum so he can listen in to their conversation.

Just so he can make sure they’re not talking about him behind his back.

“And who’s this, then?” Callum is asking, pointing to something on the table Ben can’t see – he can only see the mostly-empty plate left over from what was presumably Lexi’s dinner, a half drunk strawberry milkshake, a few stray pens and pieces of paper. Lexi must have been drawing after she’d eaten.

“That’s the prince.” Lexi tell Callum. She’s tired, Ben can tell by her voice. He should probably get her home soon, put her to bed. Still, though, he finds himself hanging back for a moment longer. He’s not really sure why.

“I thought that was the prince.”

“They’re both princes.” Lexi says, like it’s obvious. “And this is their castle, and this is their dog, and this is their car-”

“Their car?!” Callum exclaims quietly; subdued but still making his amazement clear. “Is it a fast car?”

“The fastest ever.” She says, just as enthusiastically despite her evident exhaustion. “And it never breaks.”

“Oh wow, I bet that’s an expensive car.” Ben can just make out Lexi nodding. His face is starting to hurt from how hard he’s smiling. “Are they brothers, then, these princes?”

“No, they’re in love.” It’s matter of fact, the way she says it. No hesitation, no uncertainty. Ben’s smile softens, his chest burning with pride. “Just like you and daddy.”

Ben can sense the way Callum freezes up – though he can’t say he blames him; the words are a shock to him too. He recovers quicker than Callum does though, and steps around the table and into their view, trying to distract them both from having to have _that_ particular conversation. Lexi reacts instantly, calling out and moving to get down from Callum’s lap. It takes Callum a moment longer to catch up, the look of shock still evident on his face.

“Alright princess?” Ben says, putting his tea down on the table so he can pick Lexi up. Her arms automatically go around his neck. “Did you miss me?”

She nods, making no move to let go of him.

He turns to Callum, surprised to see him looking up at them with a small smile on his face. He smiles back, then mouths a ‘she’s tired’. Callum nods like he knows.

“Did you behave yourself for Callum?” He asks her, trying to sit down with Lexi still clinging to him. Callum pulls out the table a little bit to give them more room. She nods against his neck. “Did she?” He asks Callum.

“Good as gold.” He assures him, small smile still on his face. “I picked her up, she told me all about the sticker she got, didn’t ya? For listening well?” Lexi nods in agreement, but still doesn’t lift her head from her dad’s shoulder. It’s unusual. “The sticker fell off at some point though, so she was a bit upset about that.”

Ben frowns, trying to pull back a little so he can see Lexi’s face. It’s not like her to be this quiet, so he bounces his leg a little to jostle her slightly, trying to coax her into lifting her head. “What’ve you gone all shy for, ay? Callum’s talking to you.”

“Leave her; she’s tired ain’t she?” Callum says, not at all bothered, and then he leans forward, lowering his voice a little. “I think she missed you, an’ all. She kept asking after you.”

“That true?” He asks her. She nods some more. “I’m sorry, baby; I’ll try not to do it again.” He says, pressing a kiss to her hair. “But spending the afternoon with Callum wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Ben hopes his voice doesn’t give away his desperation, but it would break his heart if his daughter didn’t like his- well. The guy he’s seeing.

He likes Callum a lot, but his daughter will always come first.

Thankfully, though, Lexi shakes her head, finally pulling away from Ben. “He drew me loads of pictures and then let me colour them in.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve got about a dozen new pictures for your fridge.” Callum tells him as Lexi leans over and starts shuffling through the pieces of paper on the table. “They’re in Lexi’s school bag; she did one for everyone.”

“Callum hasn’t put his up yet because he hasn’t got any magnets, but he pinky swore that he would get some tomorrow.” Ben looks at Callum for… he’s not sure why he looks at Callum, but he does. Callum isn’t looking at him though, he’s looking at Lexi, nodding in agreement. “Look!” Lexi pulls out one picture from the lot – a smiling cartoon giraffe stood next to a smiling cartoon lion, the outline of them clean and bold against the scribbling of Lexi’s coloured pencils. “This one’s my favourite. Callum drew it, and I coloured it in.”

“You _drew_ this?” Ben asks, pulling the picture closer towards him to look at it closer. He sees Callum nod in his periphery. “I thought you’d pulled this out of a colouring book or something… Callum, this is really good.”

“I used to draw a lot when I was younger.” Callum explains, and now _he’s_ the one who’s gone shy. “I wanted to do art as one of my GCSEs, but apparently art is for-” he cuts himself short. His eyes dart to Lexi, but she isn’t listening, too busy shuffling through her pictures. He doesn’t need to elaborate, though. Ben knows exactly what kind of reaction Jonno would have had to hearing that one of his sons wanted to do art. “Anyway, I haven’t drawn in a long time, but Lexi didn’t have any of her colouring books with her, so I thought I’d improvise. It was a lot of fun, actually, drawing again.”

Ben can do nothing but smile hopelessly at the look of bashful happiness on Callum’s face. He’ll buy Callum a sketchbook for Christmas if it means he gets to see that look more often. He’ll buy him a hundred.

“Thank you, Callum.” He says quietly, reaching across the table and placing his hand on top of Callum’s, which immediately turns over so they can hold hands properly. “I mean it, you did me such a favour today, I owe you-”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Callum tells him just as quietly. He seems nervous, for some reason, but not in a bad way . “Like I said, I had fun, and Lexi was no trouble at all. And it was good.” He nods, almost like he’s willing Ben to understand what he’s trying to say. And Ben hears him, loud and clear: _this was good for us, this was good for our relationship, this was good for Lexi._

_This was good._

Ben can’t believe his luck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I wouldn’t mind doing it again, if you ever needed me. As long as Lexi doesn’t mind, obviously.”

They both look at Lexi, waiting for her input, but she’s no longer listening – instead, she’s drawing in a background for the lion and the giraffe. Ben jiggles his leg again.

“You listening, missus?” Lexi looks up, her eyes a little bleary. “Callum’s asking if you’d mind if he looked after you again.”

“I don’t mind.” She says, shrugging. “It was more fun than sitting and watching the telly at granddad Phil’s.”

Ben pulls a face at Callum over the top of her head. “Well, there you go then. You’re more fun than granddad Phil.”

Callum laughs, abashed, as Lexi’s head falls back with a big yawn.

“Right, well, I think that’s our cue to go, don’t you princess?” He asks, pressing a kiss to her temple. “C’mon, put your stuff away and then it’s home, bath, then bed.”

“But _dad_ -”

“No arguing, thank you.” She pouts about it, but starts putting her pencils back in her pencil case. Evidently she’s too tired to even argue.

A few minutes later Lexi’s things are back in her bag (she insists Callum takes the picture with the two princes; he folds it up and puts it in his inner pocket, looking suspiciously misty eyed, but Ben doesn’t call him out on it) and the table is cleared – Callum, ever the gentlemen, takes their plates and cups up to the counter because ‘it’s one less job for your mum, ain’t it?’.

His mum seems overly touched by the gesture and gives Ben a significant look as the three of them all leave together. He does his best to ignore it.

“Are you gonna thank Callum for looking after you today?” He asks Lexi once they’re outside, but before he’s even got the question out her hand has slipped out of his so she can throw her arms around Callum. He seems surprised, but a second later he’s leaning down so he can hug her back. She murmurs something that Ben can’t hear, and Callum laughs.

“Anytime, Lex.”

She steps back, grabbing her dad’s hand again. Ben looks down at her, amused, and then back up at Callum. He feels uncharacteristically shy.

“Thank you for today, Callum.” He says, reaching out to fiddle with Callum’s lapel. It’s just an excuse not to have to look him in the eye, really. “You didn’t have to do all of this but-”

“I wanted to.” Callum says. Simple as that. “It’s not a big deal, honestly-”

“It is.” Ben tells him. He leaves no room for argument. “To me, it is.”

He hopes Callum understands what he’s trying to say. That this is important. This is a big deal. This is his daughter – the one person who he’d do anything for, who he’d move heaven and earth for if he had to. This is the most important person in his life, and this is Callum, _trying_. Making himself a part of Ben’s life, Ben’s _family_. Picking his daughter up from school and looking after her even though he doesn’t have to. Getting to know her. Drawing her pictures just so she has something to colour in. Taking her for dinner and letting her sit in his lap while she draws him pictures in return.

He doesn’t have to do any of that.

Ben’s really, really glad he did it anyway.

Callum kisses him then, in a way that makes Ben think that he gets it. That he knows.

That he feels it too.

4.

“You’ve broken me, Callum.”

“I have not _broken_ you.”

“You’ve broken me.” Ben insists, leaning his weight onto the bar of The Vic. There’s a grimace on his face that’s been there since this morning, but underneath that is amusement. “You’ve broken me, and now you don’t even have the decency to be sympathetic about it.” He tuts. “I thought you were a nice boy.”

“I am a nice boy.” Callum replies, though his conviction is starting to waver. Ben has been guilt tripping him all day. “Or I was, until you corrupted me.”

“ _Corrupted_?” Ben stands up too quickly, wincing when the action clearly causes him genuine pain. Callum immediately floods with guilt; he had just through Ben was hamming it up to make him feel bad, not that he was _actually_ in significant pain. “I corrupted _you_? You are having a laugh Callum; you’re the one who practically broke my back this morning with his-”

“You alright, boys?”

Both of them jump as Mick approaches, rubbing his hands together. They’re stood at the far end of the bar, near the toilets, and thankfully it’s quiet, but that just makes it all the more likely that someone overheard what they were just talking about. That _Mick_ overheard. Callum feels his face heat up.

Mick looks between the two of them when both of them clam up upon his arrival. “I ain’t interrupting something, am I?”

“No, Mick.” Callum insists before Ben can even open his mouth, though he sees him smirk out of the corner of his eye. “We just thought we’d pop in for a drink, see how you’re doing.”

“What, on your day off? Ain’t you got better things to be doing?” Ben’s smirk widens.

“How’d you know it was my day off?” Callum asks, trying to get the conversation away from Callum _doing_ anything.

“Ain’t wearing your death suit, are ya?” Mick gestures to Callum’s clothes. “Two pints do ya?”

“Cheers Mick.” Callum smiles, just glad he doesn’t seem to have heard what they were talking about before – though the conversation is far from over, if Ben’s face is anything to go by.

“Alright,” Callum admits as soon as Mick is out of earshot, not wanting Ben to speak first, “I might have gone a bit… overboard this morning-”

“A _bit_ overboard? Callum, I’m gonna have bruises the shape of your hipbones on my arse for _weeks_ -”

“-but _you’re_ the one who woke up in a mood. You’re like a dog in heat, sometimes.” He hisses, flicking his eyes around the bar, paranoid someone’s listening.

“Yeah, because it was your day off and the house was empty. What was I supposed to do, _not_ take advantage of the situation?” Callum says nothing. “The only reason we left the house at _all_ is because Ian came back for lunch.”

“I’m just saying – you asked and I delivered. You brought it on yourself.”

Ben scoffs, but his smile still manages to get bigger. “Listen to you, ay? Blaming the victim after what you did to me this morning?” He shakes his head. “And you’ve got the cheek to say _I_ corrupted _you_. ”

“Victim? You make it sound like I-”

“Barrel’s gone, won’t be a minute.” Mick calls, disappearing into the back with barely a glance their way. Once he’s gone Ben turns to him properly, albeit a little slower than he normally would. Callum swallows, avoiding his eye.

“I dunno why you’re being so shy about it. Because you’re right, I did want it. I enjoyed it, an’ all, even if I am gonna be paying for it for the next month.” Ben looks like the cat who got the cream, his chest all puffed up, not an ounce of shame or regret in him. Callum can just see the beginnings of a bruise peaking out the collar of Ben’s shirt where he vaguely remembers biting him. Maybe he _was_ rougher than he realized. “I just don’t know why you feel the need to maintain your virginal, butter-wouldn’t-melt act with me. It’s not like I don’t know exactly what you’re like. You’re worse than I am, once you get going.”

“Alright, lets not start telling _lies_ -”

 _“_ I’ve got the bruises to prove it!” Ben protests. Callum wonders if he’s aware of the lovebite on his neck. He wonders how many more there are that he hasn’t noticed yet. How many more that haven’t even had time to properly develop yet. Heat pools in his stomach just thinking about it.

He’d never been possessive before Ben. He still isn’t, really, but that – he likes that. Likes marking Ben up, as juvenile as it is. He gets embarrassed about it afterwards, but he still likes it – knowing everyone could potentially see his marks on Ben’s body if his shirt rides up a little, or he undoes the button on his collar. That Ben could just be out, minding his business, going about his day and Callum’s presence would still be there. That if someone from the Square catches sight of a lovebite on Ben, they’ll know exactly who left it there.

(He remembers when he realized how much he liked it; they’d briefly gone out to the Minute Mart after spending the morning together in Callum’s empty flat. Ben had pulled on one on Callum’s t-shirts (“It’s not like I’m gonna be dressed for long, is it?”) that hung a little bit loose around his neck – loose enough to expose the bruising bite mark Callum had left at the juncture where Ben’s neck sloped off into his shoulder. Neither of them had noticed it until they’d already left the flat, and once Callum did notice – in the middle of the street, with the sun reflecting off the white of the t-shirt and making the bruise all the more obvious – he’d felt his entire face flush. Callum told him about it and tried to inconspicuously pull the collar back up as they walked, but Ben hadn’t cared either way until he realized how embarrassed Callum was about it; then he made a point of pulling the shirt down so the bruise was even more exposed every time Callum had tried to pull it up. They had bickered about it, but Callum had relented, not wanting draw even more attention to themselves.

The bruise had been mostly forgotten about until Callum had been standing behind Ben as they were queuing up to pay for their bacon and fresh bread and he caught sight of it again, just barely visible over the top of Ben’s shoulder, partially covered by the collar of his t-shirt. _His_ t-shirt, that Ben was wearing – Callum’s t-shirt that was covering the lovebite _he_ had left on Ben, and it was right there, for anyone to see. Callum’s stomach had dropped instantly.

Anyone who walked into the Minute Mart now could see it. Could see _them,_ if they’d paid enough attention – they’d see the way Callum’s shirt fit oddly over Ben’s torso, too long and too tight around Ben’s biceps. They’d see the darkening bruise peeking out through the collar. They might’ve even seen the beard burn Ben has not stopped complaining about all morning.

And Callum knew that the chances were that no one would notice. That no one pays that close attention to other people. But it was all there, anyway; in plain view, in the light of day. Nothing secretive. No hiding it. If someone did pay attention, they would see it all. The realization of that had been almost overwhelming.

Because even if they didn’t – even if someone just happened glanced their way and that was it, there was still no missing how they were stood in each other’s space, the absentminded way Ben had leant into Callum’s chest, the way one of Callum’s hands had curled around Ben’s hip without him even realizing it. They’d look at the two of them, and they’d know. There’d be no mistaking what they were, what they’d been doing.

Ben had looked back at him and smiled. Callum had smiled back. When he had looked away, Callum’s eyes had dropped straight to the bruise on Ben’s neck. Suddenly – and almost a little hysterically – he wished it was higher on his neck so he couldn’t hide it with his shirt. That it was a little darker, more obvious. That it was unmissable and unmistakable.

He had been embarrassed by his own thoughts, but they also made his stomach knot up in the best way.

Ben had ended up with a lot more bruises that day.)

“You’re a menace, Callum. Just admit it.” Ben says, forcing Callum to focus on the present. His eyes are dragging up and down Callum’s body; his lip pulls between his teeth, just for a moment. “It’s alright, y’know? To like it. And it’s not like I’m gonna mind, is it, considering I’m the one encouraging ya. Getting you all wound up.” His mouth pulls into a surprisingly soft smile. “Stop looking at me like you’re gonna eat me for lunch.”

“Maybe I am gonna eat you for lunch.”

Ben’s eyebrows shoot up. A smirk follows not far behind, but it softens again almost immediately.

“Full of surprises, you, ain’t ya?”

Callum wishes they weren’t in the pub suddenly. He wishes he hadn’t suggested they go out for a few hours, get some fresh air – he wishes he’d told Ben to lock the bedroom door, Ian’s lunch be damned, or gone back to his flat in the hopes that Stuart and Rainie were out. Because right now it feels like there’s literal gravity between them; some kind of magnetism pulling them together, their bodies resisting their separation. They aren’t touching anywhere, but it’s like Callum can feel the heat of Ben’s body anyway.

The rest of the room ceases to exist, with Ben looking at him like that. Callum feels himself start to lean towards him.

“Alright boys?” Linda calls as she comes out of the back, followed by Tina who offers them a similar greeting. They both turn and walk towards the other end of the bar without another look their way, but Callum jumps and takes a step away from Ben anyway, feeling like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. The moment’s broken. The softness is gone from Ben’s face, a smirk replacing it.

“I don’t know how you coped all these years without a good shag, to be honest,” Callum would be offended by the easiness of Ben’s words if he didn’t already know he’s worryingly good at that – recovering from a tense moment, carrying on like nothing had happened, “especially with your libido.”

Callum scoffs. “ _My_ libido? You’re one to talk.”

“Then again,” Ben continues, ignoring him, “that might explain why you like it so rough now. Years of pent up frustration finally coming out-”

“Here, get these down your necks.” Mick puts down two pints in front of them, the heads on them running over the rim slightly. Callum didn’t even notice him come back out to the bar. “Sorry about the wait.”

Again, if Mick overheard anything he’s not letting on, but Callum wants the ground to open and swallow him whole anyway. He ducks his head, fumbling for his wallet, but Mick just tuts at him and tells him not to bother. Callum protests, though, needing an excuse not to look Mick in the eye. “You can’t just go around giving out free beer; that’s no way to run a business, is it?”

“Listen, when you were living here you somehow managed to eat your way through half of our salt and vinegar stock every week; I think I can stretch to two pints.”

Ben makes a noise around a mouthful of his beer, swallowing it eagerly. Callum notices the way his tongue darts out to lick the foam off his top lip. “Yeah, what is that all about? I mean eating that amount of crisps is unhealthy anyway, but salt and vinegar?”

Callum frowns, his gaze pulling away from Ben’s lips. “Uh, what is wrong with salt and vinegar?”

“Uh, the fact that it’s the worst crisp flavour?” Ben says, matching Callum’s tone and intonation. “I mean honestly Callum, I thought you had taste.”

“So did I until he shacked up with you.” Mick says, but there’s warmth there. Ben laughs sarcastically, but there’s warmth there too. Callum smiles to himself.

The pub is quiet enough that they can chat for a little while longer, Mick leaning on the taps behind the bar. Linda drifts over every so often, and Tina comes out from behind the bar to stand next to Callum at some point. It’s nice and familiar and Callum almost manages to forget about their previous conversation until he hears Ben hiss in pain, his face scrunched in a grimace.

“You alright over there?” Mick asks easily, but there’s concern on his face.

Ben shifts his weight a little, his face relaxing. One of Callum’s hands has automatically shot out and is now hovering close to Ben, ready to support him if he needs it. “Yeah yeah, just uh- a bit sore is all.”

“You been getting yourself into fights again?” Tina asks, leant over so she can see Ben around Callum. The disapproval is evident in her tone.

Ben’s resentment is instant. “Uh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a good boy recently. Callum won’t let me get into fights no more. Likes my face the way it is, apparently, though I do think I look quite sexy with a black eye.” Callum rolls his eyes.

“So what’s the matter with ya then?” Mick asks. Callum was so hoping he would just let it go. “You getting old and decrepit?”

Ben’s eyebrows raise, smirk back on his face. “Definitely ain’t that.”

“So what is it then?” Tina’s frown only deepens when Ben pulls a face instead of giving her an answer. “Is it that embarrassing?” He still doesn’t answer her. “Two hundred and fifty quid embarrassing?”

“I ain’t the one that’s embarrassed, that’s all I’m saying.”

Callum reaches out and pinches Ben’s side; he flinches away, then flinches some more when that causes him pain. “You’re such a _bully_ , Callum. Ain’t it bad enough that you’ve crippled me?”

“ _Ben_ -”

“What, it’s Halfway’s fault?” Mick looks between them, confused at their interaction. “Why would he be embarrassed? What’s he done?”

Callum knows, he _knows_ Ben’s going to get that stupid smug look on his face so he looks away just so he doesn’t have to see it. He can feel his face already start to radiate heat.

What he doesn’t expect, though, is to look over at Tina only to see realization dawning on her face. Her own mouth falls open a little, then pulls into a smirk. Callum’s stomach drops. Between her and Ben, he stands no chance.

“What?” Mick asks, seeming to realize he’s the only one who’s out of the loop. “What is it?”

Callum braces his hands on the bar, his head drooping between his shoulders. He has no choice but to resign to his fate, but that doesn’t mean he has to watch it coming.

“Well you see Michael,” he hears Ben say, putting on that stupid posh voice he does when he’s winding people up, “when two boys love each other very much sometimes they have a special little cuddle where-”

“ _Ben_!” Callum groans, his head dropping even lower in embarrassment. His spine, though, tingles at the mention of the word ‘love’. It’s not something they’ve talked about, not something they’ve said to each other, but Callum feels it. Feels it often. All the time, maybe.

He looks at Ben, grinning so big it’s threatening to split his face, and hopes he feels the same. Even if he does publicly humiliate him.

“Oh. _Oh_. Right. I see.” He risks a look at Mick; he looks embarrassed now, but also deeply amused, which makes the whole thing ten times worse. He’s not brave enough to look at Tina.

“Yeah? You sure? Sure you don’t need me to draw you a diagram?” Callum reaches out and pinches Ben again; he pretends it hurts it more than it does, the smile not even falling from his face.

“No you’re alright, I think I’ve got the picture clear enough, thank you.” Mick’s still not really meeting anyone’s eyes, but now he’s smiling like he’s finding this whole thing hilarious. “Christ, Halfway – I mean, no offence, but I didn’t think you had that kind of steam in ya.”

Callum’s eyes roll to the ceiling. “Oh- can we talk about something else, please?”

“To be fair, Mick, I don’t think Halfway’s the one who had it in him.”

“Tina!” Callum and Mick cry at the same time. Ben nearly spits beer across the bar, having to bang on his chest to clear his throat. Callum has never been this mortified in his _life_ ;he didn’t know this level of embarrassment was even possible. He starts to pray – _literally_ , genuinely pray – for this conversation to end.

However, much to Callum’s dismay, Mick’s embarrassment seems to have suddenly worn off, because now he’s leaning over the bar, a lecherous smile on his face. “At least we know who’s the thrower and who’s the catcher now, ay?”

“You know what? I’m-”

“Not necessarily.” Tina says, completely ignoring Callum’s outburst. “I mean, a lot of couples switch don’t they?”

“Can you two stop talking about us like we ain’t here?” Ben interjects. His voice a little rough from almost choking on his beer, so he clears his throat. Even he looks a little bit red in the face now, though that could be down to the coughing. “And what do yous two know about the nuances of gay sex anyway?”

Tina leans across Callum to look directly at Ben. “Uh, funnily enough, I’ve had a fair bit of it in my time.”

“Yeah but that ain’t the same as-”

“Oh god, I’m outnumbered now ain’t I?” Mick bemoans, though he’s still smiling. “The gays are taking over.”

Ben clicks his tongue in faux sympathy. “That is the gay agenda.”

That makes Tina laugh, while Mick just smiles on in amusement. Ben winks at Callum, a small smile on his face, and brings a hand up to rub soothingly at his back. Callum shakes his head disapprovingly, but he feels surprisingly warm here, with these people. Safe.

Loved.

He thinks the conversation is blessedly over with that, but then Linda comes storming over, the sound of her heels hollow on the floor. “Would you lot leave it out?” She hisses, coming to a stop next to Mick. “I can hear your conversation from the other end of the bar, and if I can hear it so can everyone else.” Callum face, which had finally been cooling down, immediately heats back up. “You’re gonna scare off the punters – I mean no offence, but no one wants to hear about Ben and Callum’s love life while they’re trying to eat their lunch, do they? And if Halfway goes any redder he might spontaneously combust, and I _ain’t_ cleaning his innards off the pub floor. It’s bad enough I had to clean up Ben’s.”

“Oh that’s charming, that is.” Ben calls after her as she stomps back off. She ignores him, so he turns to Callum, his eyes flicking over his features. He reaches out and tugs on Callum’s ear; his fingers feel cool against the heated skin there. “You are looking a bit red though, Cal.”

“And who’s fault’s that?”

Ben’s eyes widen in indignation. “Mick’s the one who brought it up!”

“Don’t blame me, Tina’s the one who made it filthy!” Mick holds his hands up defensively, already walking off to serve someone approaching the bar.

“Uh, I did not!” She calls, but Mick’s already gone, so she turns to pat Callum on the arm, smiling at the both of them. “I best be off and all, actually. But listen; try to go a little easier on poor Ben next time, ay?”

“I’m disowning all of you.” Callum promises as she walks away, cackling.

He picks up his pint and takes a long swig of it; Ben leans into his side as he does it, his nose pressed into his shoulder. It’s his way of apologizing, Callum knows; his ‘sorry I’m being a little shit’ apology that Callum is all too familiar with. He puts the glass down and sighs. “We should have stayed at home.”

“You’re the one who insisted we go out.” Ben says, the words muffled by the material of Callum’s jacket. He hears rather than feels the kisses Ben presses to his arm. “Have I pissed you off?”

Callum shakes his head, not wanting Ben to think he’s genuinely angry at him. “I’m just embarrassed.”

“You don’t need to be, we’re all adults.”

“How would you like it if I started discussing our sex life in front of _your_ family?”

Ben pulls back slightly. “My family already know too much about my sex life as it is, they tell me that all the time.”

“Your dad, then.” Ben stills and pulls a face.

“Point made. I won’t do it again.” He presses one last kiss to his arm and then stands up straight. “Can we go to the chemist on the way home? I think Lola used the last of the painkillers last week when she had a migraine.”

Callum frowns at him. “Is it that bad?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you broke me.”

Ben’s smirking again. Callum’s glad one of them finds it amusing, because right now he feels terrible. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” His voice is gentle, quiet, _sure_. Callum feels himself start to smile, despite the guilt. “Come on then, hurry up and drink that. Ian should be gone by now, so we can go get some painkillers and then we can do that lunch we were talking about.”

Ben’s eyebrows raise suggestively. Callum freezes in place for a moment. “You’re not serious.”

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“But you’re in _pain_ -”

“That’s what the painkillers are for.” He says it like it’s obvious. “And anyway, since when have I ever let a little bit of pain stop me from doing anything? Especially you.”

Callum’s speechless. Literally speechless. All he can do is stare at Ben, unsure what to do with himself.

“I ain’t gonna tell you again.” Ben warns, then leans into Callum’s space so he can speak lower. “You can’t just tell a boy you’re gonna eat him for lunch and then _not_ eat him for lunch, Callum. That would be rude.”

He leans back. Pulls a face that says _I’m waiting_.

Callum drinks.

5.

Ben has fucked it up.

Ben has fucked it up, just like he fucks everything up. Just like he fucks every _one_ up. He ruins everything he touches, like King Midas in reverse. Although to be perfectly honest, it’s practically a miracle that it’s taken him this long. That this didn’t happen sooner.

Ben never, never wanted to fuck it up. Not this. Not Callum.

He spent most of the night drunk, then spends most of the morning at the Arches, snapping at his mechanics if they look at him for too long or make too much noise until even that starts to feel pointless and he leaves. He thinks about going on home and trying to get some sleep but he doesn’t. Doesn’t think he could, anyway.

His phone rings but it’s never Callum.

He doesn’t answer it.

He ends up at the park. Realizes too late that he’s sat down at the same bench from his and Callum’s first night together. The start of it all. He wonders if maybe his subconscious brought him here to be cruel, to punish him for fucking it up.

It’s not as if this isn’t hard enough as it is. As if he isn’t punishing himself already. He’d beat himself black and fucking blue if he could.

He really, _really_ didn’t want to fuck this up.

He can’t even remember what they’d argued about anymore, is the thing. It had started out as something stupid, he remembers that much; just quarrelling, making little jabs at each other but it was nothing serious. But then it had got serious. And then it had got more serious. And Ben, he took it too far. Got nasty, the way he did when he was backed into a corner. Lashed out the way he always does when he’s hurting. Said some things he didn’t even mean. Callum had got upset. Said some things back. Ben didn’t blame him – he couldn’t, not when he had been the one to start it. Not when Callum was right, anyway.

Ben had tried to warn him, hadn’t he? That he’d fuck it up eventually – them. Him. But would Callum listen? No. He had just insisted that he wanted it. That he wanted to try.

Well they had tried, and they had failed. Ben had failed.

At least they’d tried, he supposes, though he almost wishes they hadn’t now. Not if it was going to hurt this much when it all came crumbling down around them.

Ben leans over and presses his forehead to the rough wood of the table. Breathes in. Breathes out. He’s not even drunk anymore, is the thing. He wishes he was. He could be. Could well and truly follow in his father’s footsteps and get bladdered before midday.

He doesn’t move. Stays put.

Until he doesn’t.

Somehow he ends up at the funeral parlour. It’s stupid, it’s asking for trouble, but he knows it’s Callum’s day off and if there’s anyone who’s going to stop him from doing something completely fucking stupid it’s Jay. It’s not like he’s not already used to Ben’s bullshit, is it?

So Ben goes to the funeral parlour.

Only when he gets there, he hears voices coming from the office, the sound of them low and mumbling. And Ben thinks, _of course_. Of course there are people here; it’s business hours, the parlour is open, Jay’s at work. The world doesn’t stop turning just because Ben Mitchell fucked up yet again. No one would ever get anything done if it did.

Ben hovers in the front room for a moment, not sure whether he should stay or go. He probably shouldn’t stay, not if Jay’s with a client, but he doesn’t really know what’ll happen if he leaves. Maybe he’ll do something stupid like buzz at Callum’s flat and make an absolute fool out of himself by begging for forgiveness when he knows they’re done. Or maybe he’ll just go and get drunk.

Like father, like son.

Fuck, Ben feels ill.

No one comes out from the office; Ben doesn’t even think anyone heard him come in. He knows he probably should, but he doesn’t want to leave. Not without speaking to Jay. So he considers his options. He could probably sneak out back unnoticed and hide in one of the viewing rooms until the client leaves. He doesn’t particularly care if there’s a body back there. The dead feel like fitting company, actually, given his current mood.

As soon as the thought is formed, his mind is made up. He takes one step forward, trying to be quiet, then he takes another.

And then he hears him – Callum. He can’t distinguish the words, but he’d know that voice anywhere.

It’s Callum who’s in the office with Jay. Not a client.

Ben swears under his breath, takes a step back on instinct. But then he stops. Thinks. Takes a step towards the office, conscientious of the fact that the door is cracked open.

He shouldn’t listen. He knows that. But at this point, what exactly does he have to lose?

“-be a bit of a nightmare, but-”

“You didn’t hear some of the stuff he was saying, Jay.” Callum sounds tired. Like he hasn’t slept either.

“Yeah but that’s just Ben, ain’t it? Always mouthing off – it don’t mean he _means_ it. He’ll soon come crawling back with his tail between his legs.”

A silence follows, telling Ben everything he needs to know. He doesn’t need to hear anymore. He didn’t need to hear even that much, really. It’s not like it’s anything Ben didn’t know already.

He swallows. Takes a quiet step towards the front door.

“Look, I don’t know what was said, so I’m not gonna tell you want to do or how to feel,” he hears Jay say. Despite himself, Ben stops moving, “but I do know Ben, and I know that he cares about ya. More than I’ve seen him care about anyone in a long time. And I know that right now he’s probably off somewhere in a right state, beating himself up over this whole thing-”

“Right, so you won’t tell me what to do but you will guilt me into forgiving him?” Ben hates how upset Callum sounds. He wishes he could make it better somehow.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m just saying I know what he’s like – I know he ain’t the easiest of blokes to deal with at the best of times, and I know it’s like banging your head against a brick wall with him sometimes but… that don’t mean he don’t care. It’s just hard for him, letting people in. And you and him, you’ve been thick as thieves ever since you got together. I just think that maybe everything’s just got a bit too much for him and he’s lashing out the way he always does when things get too much.” Jay doesn’t get a reply. Ben looks at the ground. “All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see what the two of you have got go to waste because of some stupid argument, that’s all.”

Callum’s voice is so quiet Ben almost doesn’t catch it. “I don’t want that either.”

“Well then, maybe you should go and talk to _him_ about all of this instead of me.” Ben hears movement; paper shuffling, things being moved. Someone sighs. “Look, you love him, yeah?”

Ben holds his breath, anticipating the pain of Callum’s quiet but firm rejection. What he gets instead is a quiet but firm, “Course I do.”

Ben’s legs almost give out beneath him.

“And I know he loves you,” He doesn’t know how Jay knows that because Ben’s certainly never told him that. But he does, he realizes suddenly. That’s why he’s handled this stupid fucking argument so badly; why he’s so bone-scared of losing Callum. It’s because he loves him. Because he’s in love with him. Fuck. _Fuck,_ “so just _talk_ to him, yeah? It wouldn’t be fair on either of you if you didn’t at least try to sort this out.” Jay says. Ben is barely listening, having to lean one hand the wall to support himself. “And it would be a shame an’ all, because you’re good for him, Callum. And he’s good for you. You’re _good_ together, and I’m saying that both as his brother and your mate.”

Ben pushes away from the wall, leaving the parlour as quickly and as quietly as he can. He doesn’t stay to hear whatever is said next – he doesn’t need to. He’s heard more than enough.

He shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but he doesn’t regret it. How can he, knowing what he now knows?

Ben walks through the market in a daze. He keeps his head down, trying his best to be invisible. He makes a point of not thinking about anything beyond getting home. Once he’s home, away from prying eyes, then he can think. He just needs to get there.

The Beale’s is blessedly empty for once when he gets there. Ben goes in through the back door, presses his head against it once he’s shut it behind him. He stops. He breathes.

He had been so sure this morning that their relationship was finished. That they were over. That Callum would be done with him. He had been _so sure_.

But that doesn’t matter now, he supposes. That was yesterday. This is today.

Ben’s fucked it up. That doesn’t mean he can’t put it right.

Callum loves him.

He loves Callum.

God, he needs to fucking sit down.

(Later that night, Ben goes to Callum’s flat, his tail between his legs.

Callum opens the door and lets him inside.)

+1

“What’re you doing out here all on your Tod?”

Callum jumps at the sound of Ben’s voice, head whipping around to watch him approach. Ben’s not got a coat on, just his thin shirt, and has got his arms crossed tightly over his chest as if to ward out the cold.

He stops a few feet away, doesn’t come any closer. Callum looks at him – his hands tucked into his armpits, shivering slightly from the cold – and for a moment, his head swims.

He isn’t even drunk, is the thing. He really isn’t – he hasn’t drunk much all night, too mindful of Lexi’s presence in the room – but Ben just does that to him, sometimes. Still. Even after all this time.

It had been a surprisingly enjoyable New Years that Callum had spent at the Beale’s – Ben and Lola were going to let Lexi stay up until midnight for the first time, so neither of them wanted to go out and instead invited Callum and Jay to spend New Years at theirs. It was, in theory, only supposed to be the five of them, but it turned out that Kathy had the night off from working at the Albert (she had worked over Christmas, and apparently it was a rule of hers that you either work Christmas or New Years, never both) and Ian had no plans despite _insisting_ that he had offers, and Bobby was too young to really go anywhere himself, even if he had had anyone to go with, so it ended up becoming more of a family thing. The kitchen had been stocked with enough alcohol to keep everyone pleasantly buzzed (though no one really went beyond tipsy, because of Lexi) and Ian had done some food (and as it turns out, he’s a lot easier to tolerate when both you’ve got a few drinks inside you). Lexi was running around in her sparkly dress asking how long it was until midnight every 10 minutes, and even Bobby had come downstairs for a good chunk of the night instead of locking himself away in the bedroom. Music was playing and people kept popping their heads in to wish people a Happy New Year – Billy, Honey and the kids; Habiba, Iqra and her girlfriend Ash had briefly showed up to see Bobby; even Stuart and Rainie had turned up (and left almost immediately, which Callum was quietly thankful for – the last thing everyone needed was for it to kick off between Callum’s brother and Ben’s). It almost became like a bit of a party, for an hour or two, but in soon calmed back down again as people moved on to other things. Callum didn’t mind – he preferred it like that, if he was honest.

As it approached midnight, they all seemed to migrate to the sofas, sitting in a circle and chatting amongst themselves. Lexi had still been awake by then, but she was quiet, the excitement and the late hour tiring her out. Still, she had been determined to stay up, refusing every time someone offered to take her to bed, even if she did curl up in her mum’s lap, her eyes drooping.

Somehow they ended up telling embarrassing stories about each other, Ben hiding his face in Callum’s neck every time someone told one about him, his face beautifully flushed, a big grin stuck in place despite his embarrassment. There seemed to be an endless stream of stories to tell about Ben, one reminding someone else of another, and it didn’t take long before Ben was biting back with stories of his own in retaliation – about Lola and Jay and him as teenagers doing stupid teenager things that had everyone laughing, even Lexi, who had been half asleep. Despite not being in on most of the jokes or knowing half the people in the stories, Callum hadn’t felt out of place. He felt the opposite, actually; like he was being included, genuinely, for perhaps the first time in his life. He had felt welcomed. Wanted.

Loved.

Just before midnight they’d all pulled on their coats and gone out into the street so Lexi could watch the fireworks. She had perked back up then, her excitement reignited, and insisted her dad lift her onto his shoulders so she could see better – he had tried to convince her that Jay or Callum might be the better choices, seeing as though they were taller, but she was having none of it, and so Ben had given in.

The Square had been alive with chatter and noise as people filtered out of the houses and pubs, all having the same idea at them. Mick had run over to them right as the fireworks started with two fistfuls of party poppers that he held up to Lexi. She took as many as her little hands could, and then Mick handed the rest to a confused Ian before grabbing Callum and planting a kiss on his cheek (to which Ben had called out a warning ‘oi, hands off my man Michael’), then he wished them all a happy new year, and ran back to the pub.

And there they had stood until the fireworks stopped – Lexi on Ben’s shoulders, Bobby handing her one party popper at a time, Kathy clapping and cheering every time she let one off. Lola and Jay cuddled close, talking in hushed tones; Ian bringing Bobby in for an awkward but surprisingly sweet hug. And Ben, despite everything going on around them, looking right at Callum. Smiling.

Callum felt dumbstruck by it all, so all he could do was smile back.

Things had calmed down after they went home. Ben and Lola had put Lexi to bed, Bobby had retreated back into his bedroom and Ian had fallen asleep in his chair. Callum had been more than happy to chat with Kathy and Jay, but once Ben and Lola had come back downstairs, Callum had stood up and told them all that he was going to go across the road and see the Carters quickly before they shut the Vic. Belatedly he worried about whether he’d be welcome back afterwards or not, but then, almost like he could read his mind, Ben had taken his hand and made him promise not to be too long. Callum had smiled as he promised, pressing a kiss to Ben’s cheek before heading out the back door.

To be fair, Callum _had_ gone to see the Carters like he said he was going to, but the Vic had still been busy despite it nearing closing time – Mick had been rushed behind the bar, Linda and Shirley were nowhere to be seen and Tina was at the Albert – so he didn’t have much reason to stay. The packed pub had felt weirdly suffocating, anyway, so he ended up not even staying long enough to order a drink.

He had intended to go straight back to the Beale’s, just as he promised, but walking through the Square he realized that he needed a moment to himself. Just to catch his breath. Just to think.

So he had sat down on the bench by the Christmas tree, and let the sounds of the night wash over him.

He’d only intended to stay there for a few minutes, but now that Ben has snapped him out of his thoughts, it’s obvious quite some time has passed. Callum realizes he must have been out here a while.

“I can’t blame you for wanting a bit of peace and quiet.” Ben says, finally moving to sit down next to him, but he leaves a noticeable gap between them. He doesn’t usually do that. “My family’s a lot to handle one on one, let alone all at once like that, so I think you did quite well, to be fair.” He turns to look at Callum, his arms still crossed in front of his chest, then he looks away again. “If you wanted to leave, you could’ve just said.”

“I didn’t- I was-” A thousand things try to rush out of his mouth at once and get stuck. The first thing that makes it out properly is, “How long have I been gone?”

“About an hour.” Ben’s still not looking at him. Why isn’t Ben looking at him? “I figured you were just having a few drinks with Mick but when I tried ringing and you didn’t pick up I started to worry.”

“I didn’t realize I was gone that long.” Callum confesses. “I went to see Mick but the pub was mobbed still so I-” his words fall off when he notices how hard Ben is shivering. “God, Ben you must be freezing.”

Callum stands up without any further thought and pulls his coat off; Ben protests weakly when he throws it over his shoulders, but a moment later he’s pushing his arms through the sleeves and pulling it around him. That seems to break whatever weird tension there was between them, because when he sits back down, Ben presses close and curls his arms around Callum’s torso, rubbing his hands up and down to try and keep him warm.

He doesn’t ask him to go back inside. Callum is grateful.

“I came to find you.” Ben says. His face is pressed to Callum’s shoulder now, making the words barely audible but Callum hears him loud and clear. They make him laugh. “What? What’s funny?”

“Nothing, just- you have a habit of doing that, don’t ya? Finding me.” Callum looks up at the sky. It’s pitch black. “Even when I didn’t wanna be found.”

Ben lifts his head from his shoulder, his frown obvious even though Callum can only see it from the corner of his eye.

He can’t look at Ben, so he looks at the sky instead.

“I just needed a time out, y’know? Just five minutes. I didn’t mean to- I didn’t even realize I’d been out here that long, I’ve just been… thinking.”

“About what?” There’s no accusation Ben’s his voice, no annoyance. Just plain curiosity.

“Everything.” Callum confesses. He slumps back against the bench; Ben goes with him. “It’d be a really different New Years if I had got married to Whit, wouldn’t it?”

Ben snorts. “A bit of an understatement.” There are a few beats of silence, and then he asks, “Do you regret it?”

There’s something tentative about the way Ben asks it, like he’s almost scared of the answer. Like he thinks it’s even possible for Callum to regret any of what happened, given everything he now has instead.

“After the wedding and Hunter and- all of that, there was a lot going on in my head, y’know? I felt- well, I felt a lot of things. But thinking about it now, I don’t think I ever once felt regret.” Callum tells him, hooking an arm over Ben’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Don’t get me wrong, there were times that I wished that it would all just… _go away_ , or that I _was_ straight so that I could’ve just married Whitney and not have had to-” he trails off, then sighs, “but even then- even then, I didn’t really _regret_ it, I don’t think. It was just fear, mostly. I was just… scared of what was going on. And the thought of coming out, and then actually _being_ out – there was no coming back from that. Not that I wanted to-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Callum.” Ben assures him. One of his hands is now methodically running up and down Callum’s chest. It’s grounding.

“It was just-” he continues anyway, needing to explain himself, “it felt so… _permanent_. Like, proper permanent. What’s it they say, you can’t put the genie back in the lamp?” Callum can feel Ben’s huff of laughter against him. “Don’t laugh, I’m being serious.” He whines, despite the smile that creeps onto his own face at the sound of it.

“Sorry- I know you are, I’m sorry, I just,” Ben turns his face up to him, his eyes glittering with mirth in the street lights, “I thought of like, three different jokes about rubbing the magic lantern to make the genie come out.” This time Callum is the one who laughs, and it floats, visible in the air. “God- I’m sorry. But hey, at least I didn’t actually say any of them and ruin the moment properly. That’s gotta count for something, ain’t it?”

Callum drops his head back, watches their laughter float away. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation, and here you are making dick jokes.”

“Uh, who said anything about dicks? I’m just talking about genies, you pervert.” He huffs playfully as Callum tucks his arm around Ben’s back under the coat, trying to keep warm. Ben takes his other hand and rubs it between his own, bringing it to his mouth and blowing his hot breath on it to warm it up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I wanna know what you were thinking about.”

Callum watches as Ben he continues to warm his hand up between his own, despite Ben’s hands being almost as cold as Callum’s. After a moment he seems to realize it’s not working and instead brings it inside the coat and tucks it under his arm to keep it warm with his body heat instead. It’s such a simple little thing, but for some reason it makes a lump start to form in Callum’s throat.

He can hear people talking somewhere close by, their drunken chatter echoing in the quiet street. He had forgotten they were in public for a minute.

He swallows once, twice, trying to clear his throat. “Forgot what I was saying now.” His voice still comes out thick.

“You were talking about coming out seeming scarily permanent.”

Callum hums, toying with the fabric of Ben’s shirt under his fingers just to distract himself a little. Ben is warm.

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to judge me?”

Ben huffs slightly, like Callum had said something funny. “As if I ever would.” When Callum doesn’t say anything Ben pulls away just enough to look him in the eye as he says, “Callum, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?”

Callum believes him. He does, and that’s probably the scariest part.

He pulls Ben back towards him.

“When I was with Whitney,” he starts as Ben settles against him again, “I was so convinced I could just pretend to be straight forever. That I could just… make it work somehow. Although to be completely honest, most days I even managed to convince _myself_ that I was straight, so I suppose the rest of the world seemed easy in comparison. And y’know, twenty eight years I’d been pretending, and up until that point, apart from you and Chris no one had been able to see through me – which ain’t that bad, is it? Two people in twenty eight years; I must’ve been doing an alright job at pretending.” He rubs at his nose, trying to get some feeling back in it. “And I had Whit. And I loved her. And she loved me, and it made sense to marry her, at least in my head. I’d had my wobble, with you; I’d got it out of my system, so I could move on from it. And marrying her, that would be like proof, wouldn’t it? That I _was_ straight. I had to be – I can’t be gay if I have a wife, can I?” He asks the sky. He lets out a breath. “In a weird way I even thought it might get easier, if I married her. Like I wouldn’t have to try so hard to pretend. That maybe I could relax a little bit, because she was almost like a safety net, you know what I mean?” He looks down at the crown of Ben’s head, pressed against his chest – the way it rises and falls with Callum’s breathing. “And even on the days I couldn’t pretend, I still convinced myself that I was doing the right thing. In my head it was like- it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if I had to convince myself every day that it was right, or that everything was fine, or that there wasn’t something missing – I mean, I’d been doing that every single day of my life, so it wasn’t like it was anything new. And it wasn’t like I was miserable, or unhappy, I was just-” Callum doesn’t know how to describe how he had felt back then. It was strange. The only word that comes to mind is empty, but he can’t bring himself to say it. “At the time, all that mattered was that I was straight, which I know seems stupid now-”

“It doesn’t seem stupid.” Ben lifts his head from Callum’s chest – it’s hard to fully make out his expression in the near-dark, but Callum can still see the downturn of his eyebrows, the pull of his mouth, the sparkle in his eyes. “It’s not stupid at all, Callum.”

The lump returns to Callum’s throat. He forces himself to look away from Ben before he can notice.

“Most of the time I was alright, as long as I didn’t-” _as long as I didn’t think about you. As long as I didn’t see you._ He almost almost says it too, but that feels too personal to admit, even to Ben himself, “but there were nights, sometimes, when she’d be asleep and I’d just lie there next to her and wonder what the fuck I was doing. And the thing is, most of the time I was thinking about what I was doing to myself. Not what I was doing to Whitney – this poor woman who I was lying to and basically just using – but what I was doing to _myself._ How bad is that?” Callum lets out a humourless laugh. He hears Ben take a breath like he’s about to say something but the words never come. “I used to have to convince myself to stay there in bed with her instead of getting up and doing a runner, or waking her up and telling her everything. And I used to say to myself, ‘if you marry her and everything doesn’t work itself out, then you can just get a divorce’ – that’s the worst part. I literally used to tell myself that if in a year’s time, or five years’ time, or ten- if I decided then that I couldn’t do it anymore, or if it got too hard to keep pretending or something changed in me, then I could always just divorce her. How awful is that? But that’s how I used to convince myself to stay. That’s the _only_ way I could convince myself to marry her – by reminding myself that it didn’t have to be forever if I didn’t want it to be. That I could get out of it if I needed to.” Callum keeps looking up, shaking his head at his own admission. “That’s terrible, ain’t it?”

Ben’s hand slides up to Callum’s jaw, turning his head towards him and forcing him to look him in the eye. “You were confused, Callum. You were confused, and you were scared, and you were dealing with a lot-”

“That still doesn’t excuse-”

“Callum,” the sternness in Ben’s voice silences him, “I will not let you feel guilty for being a bit selfish while you were dealing with all of that, alright? I won’t.”

The lump comes back again. This time it’s much harder to ignore.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you.” Callum whispers. Ben’s hold on him softens, an affectionate smile blooming even in the dark.

“You’d’ve been alright.”

“I don’t think I would’ve.”

“You would’ve.” Ben assures him, his fingers light on Callum’s face. “You’re resilient, and you’re strong, and you would’ve found your way eventually.”

“Maybe,” Callum allows after a moment, pulling one hand free to take a hold of Ben’s cold one, “but I’m glad I didn’t have to do it alone.”

Ben takes his hand firmly. “So am I.”

Callum feels his own smile start to pull at his mouth. “You know, this ain't a sentence I ever thought I’d say, but I am so glad you came back to Walford to try and fleece your dad.” Ben’s head tips forward in a silent laugh.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Only the pretty ones.” Ben makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Callum Highway, are you flirting with me?”

“Depends; are you gonna put out?”

Ben’s laugh isn’t silent this time; in fact it’s probably too loud for the late hour, but neither of them think about that. In a strange way Callum wishes the sound of Ben’s laughter would never end. That it would echo around these streets forever.

“God, I really have ruined you, ain’t I? You used to be such a polite boy.” Ben says as he plays with Callum’s shirt, his cold fingers dipping below the collar and causing goosebumps to break out over his skin. Callum just grins.

They sit there in silence for a while longer. The quiet of the Square – of the entire world, really – would be frightening if he were alone. With Ben there, it feels peaceful instead.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He knows this moment will be over soon, despite how endless it feels right now – it’s getting late, and the cold is starting to get to both of them – but Callum isn’t quite finished yet. He still has more to say to Ben; things he knows he won’t have the bottle to say in the morning.

“What for?” Ben asks just as quietly.

“Everything.” Callum drops his head back to look at the sky again. It isn’t a clear night anymore, some clouds having rolled in at some point. The light of the city makes them look a strange, inky grey. “Everything you’ve done for me, everything you’ve given me-”

“Callum you really don’t have to try this hard, I was gonna put out anyway-”

Callum lifts his head back up, shooting Ben a look. “Do you mind? I’m trying to have a moment here-”

“Sorry, I just-” Ben’s amusement is clear both in his voice and on his face, but it’s not the teasing kind – if anything, he seems embarrassed, “you’re not drunk, are ya?”

“No I am not _drunk_ ,” Callum tells him, “now are you gonna let me finish saying what I need to say or are you gonna keep interrupting me?”

“Alright, sorry,” Ben says, pressing his face into Callum’s neck. It’s tellingly hot, “carry on.”

Callum huffs, even as he pulls Ben closer. “You’ve ruined the moment now.”

“No- come on don’t do that, you know I love it when you boost my ego.”

“Oh- you know what? I’m going back inside-”

“Don’t, I’m only messing.” Ben holds onto him tighter, preventing him from standing up. After a minute, once he’s sure Callum isn’t going to try to leave again, he lets go of him so he can sit up properly, and then turns to look at Callum. His face is sincere as he speaks. “Callum, you don’t need to thank me for anything. It was all you. All I really did give you a little bit of a nudge, maybe.” Callum snorts as Ben intertwines their fingers again and pulls his hand into his lap. “And you should know by now that I’d do anything for you. All you’ve gotta do is ask.”

Callum can’t help himself. “Are you sure _you’re_ not drunk?” He asks, even though he knows his smile gives him away. It’s him, this time, who has to hold onto Ben to stop him from leaving. He tries to fight Callum off weakly as Callum presses his laughter into the fabric of his coat – _Callum’s_ coat – until he settles again.

“Are you done having your moment now?” Ben asks testily, though he gently rests his hands over Callum’s where they’re still around his waist. “Only it’s freezing out here and-”

“Not quite.” Callum says, and then – in a burst of confidence that he’s not entirely sure the source of – reaches out to take a hold of Ben’s face, turning him so he can look him properly. There are so many things he wants to say to Ben, but all of it suddenly dies when he looks him in the eye, and what comes out instead is “You know, I do like you quite a lot Ben Mitchell.”

Ben barks out a breathless laugh at that, his cheeks bunching up under Callum’s palms. “Just as well, really, ‘cause I like you quite a lot an’ all.”

They stare at each other for a moment longer, and then Callum realizes there’s no way he’s going to be able to say what he needs to say with Ben looking at him like that, so he lets him go, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and shuffling them until they’re side by side instead.

“What are you thinking about now?” Ben mumbles, and it’s like pulling the plug on a bath – everything comes spilling out.

“I’m thinking about you.” He hears Ben scoff, but he has to ignore him, otherwise he’ll never get the words out. “I’m thinking about how there’s nowhere else that I’d rather be right now than here, with you. And about how glad I am that I got to see in the new year with you and your family, even if that family does include Ian-”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

Ben laughs. Callum doesn’t. “You really have changed my life, Ben.”

“Callum-”

“No, don’t try and tell me it was all me and that I’d’ve been alright, because if it wasn’t for you, where would I be right now? I’d be exactly where I was last year, and the year before that and all the years before that. And what would I have to look forward to? Another year of lying to myself? To everyone else? Another year of being lonely and having to convince myself every day that I’m happy and that everything’s alright? But you changed all of that, Ben. You changed everything.” Ben opens his mouth to say something, but Callum isn’t finished. “I mean just think about it; think about everything I have now because of you. _With_ you. You have given me so much, Ben. And I know we’ve only been together a few months and you might think this is all a bit much-”

“I don’t.” Ben says, voice barely audible. He clears his throat, tries again. “I don’t think that.”

“I just- I’ve never felt this way before.” Callum briefly wonders if maybe he _is_ drunk and he just doesn’t realize it, because he doesn’t think there’s any way he could say all of this if he was sober. He supposes it doesn’t really matter – Ben’s quiet beside him, and these are all things Callum has wished he could tell him anyway, so he might as well talk until something stops him. “Not about anyone. And to be perfectly honest, sometimes it scares me a little bit, because I didn’t even realize it was _possible_ to feel this way about someone.”

He pauses for a moment just to breathe, so overwhelmed with everything he feels and everything he wants to say. He tries to collect his thoughts, figure out how to tell Ben all of this stuff and have it make sense, but then Ben looks at him and his thoughts go quiet.

“Good scared,” Ben asks, the shyness of his question almost overwhelming Callum all over again, “or bad scared?”

“The best kind of scared.” He assures him, as soon as his tongue allows him to. Ben looks _relieved_ , of all things. Like he doesn’t realize the enormity of Callum’s feelings for him. Like he doesn’t realize what he’s been trying to tell him this whole time.

It’s almost funny, how easy the words come out of him then. He’s spent weeks trying to find the right moment and figure out how to do it properly, all for the words to just burst out of him without Callum having much say in it at all.

“Ben, you do realize that I’m in love with you.” He can’t help but laugh then, seeing the shock pass over Ben’s face. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time – in a roundabout way, I know but I just- I wanted you to know. That I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me. And that I love you.”

For a moment, Callum can’t think beyond his heart slamming against his ribcage. He risks a look at Ben – who still hasn’t said anything – and that only serves to make his heart beat harder.

After a moment – a torturously long and silent moment – he finally feels Ben shift against him. When he turns to him, he sees a massive grin on Ben’s face; one of those dazzling ones that come out sometimes that always stop Callum in his tracks.

Callum lets go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Did you just say you love me?”

Callum scrunches his face up, pretending to think. “I suppose you’ll do.” Ben cocks his head, disbelief on his face but he plays along.

“Oh right. So you didn’t just tell me you were in love with me then?” Callum shrugs, feigning ignorance but allowing Ben to throw one leg over his lap and straddle him anyway. “And you didn’t just say I was the best thing that ever happened to you?”

“That I definitely didn’t say.” Ben’s weight settles on his thighs, warm and welcome despite how cold and uncomfortable the bench is below him.

“So you admit you said the rest of it?”

With one hand still holding onto Ben’s waist under the coat, Callum lifts the other to his face; presses his palm to his cheek, runs a thumb along his eyebrow. Ben is very obviously trying to hold back a smile.

Callum has never been more in love.

“I love you.” He tells him again. Ben’s smile finally breaks across his face. “I love you, and I am in love with you, and I’m not saying it again so don’t even ask.”

“Not even if I ask really nicely?”

“You know what? I take it all back-”

“No don’t.” Ben says instantly, using a hand on the back of Callum’s neck to prevent him from getting away. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, then leans down to press two brief pecks to Callum’s lips, “you know I’m no good with serious conversations.” He then moves to press a kiss to his cheek, the other cheek, his nose, in between his eyebrows. Ben’s nose is cold, but Callum really couldn’t care less.

He wasn’t even really mad, but he’s more than happy to accept Ben’s apology anyway if this is how he’s going to do it. He even makes a point of humming, like he’s considering Ben’s words.

“And if it makes you feel any better,” he continues, pressing his cold nose to the shell of Callum’s equally cold ear, “I am sort of in love with you an’ all.”

A chill runs down Callum’s spine, and he’s fairly sure it’s not from the cold.

“Only sort of?”

Ben leans back, hands on Callum’s shoulders, and scrunches his face up as if to think. “I suppose you’ll do.”

Callum feels weightless; that’s the only way to describe it. Buoyant. Like the weight of Ben in his lap is the only thing stopping him from floating away altogether.

Or maybe this is just what love feels like. Maybe this is what it was supposed to be like all along.

“Happy?” Ben asks.

He thinks he’s mostly joking, but Callum has never been more serious when he looks Ben in the eye and says “Never been happier.”

Ben’s grin almost splits his face.

“Come here, you sappy git.” He pulls him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again – properly this time, though their lips are dry and their teeth are chattering. It’s not a mind blowing kiss by any means, but Callum doubts he’ll ever forget it anyway.

Ben breaks the kiss only to press another one against the curve of his jaw, then another one just under his eye. “I love you.” He murmurs, the words hot against Callum’s cold skin. He presses a final kiss against Callum’s smile, and then leans back to look at him properly. “Are you done with the big romantic speeches now? Because as sweet as this is, my balls are about to freeze off. And I know we’re both quite fond of them and would much prefer if they stay attached to my body, so-”

“I spend twenty minutes telling you how much I love you, then you go and ruin it all by saying something like that? I even gave you my coat and everything!” He tuts. Ben just grins down at him – Callum sits there for a moment, taking it all in. “Come on then,” he finally says, patting Ben’s arse as if to say _get up_ , “let’s go back inside before something tragic happens.”

On their way back to the Beale’s, Callum hooks an arm over Ben’s shoulder and pulls him close enough to press a kiss to his temple. He stays there for a moment, lips still pressed against his hair, trusting Ben to navigate him through the street safely.

“Happy new year, Ben.” He says quietly, just before he pulls away. He’s never really bought into the whole ‘new year, new me’ mentality, but even he has to admit that something feels different this time. Lots of things _are_ different this time, he supposes – especially Callum himself.

“Happy new year, baby.” Ben says back, just as quietly. The grin hasn’t left his face. Callum still can’t quite believe that he’s the cause of it.

When they make it back to the Beale’s, Ben walks ahead of him a little, leading the way. He holds the back gate open for Callum to come through, then steps forward to open the back door for them both. Light from the kitchen floods the tiny garden, and when Callum looks back he sees both of their shadows dragging behind them. He watches as Ben’s shadow moves away from his as he steps inside. Sees it turn around, waiting for his, then sees it reach out a second before he feels Ben’s hand take his own.

Callum stares at the shadows for a moment longer, then turns away – looks at Ben instead, still wearing Callum’s coat, the sleeves too long on his arms. His cheeks and ears are rosy from the cold. His eyes are bright.

Callum loves him.

He lets Ben pull him inside, where it’s warm. He can hear their friends, still laughing in the living room.

He shuts the door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: i wrote all of this before the events of last week happened, so all the similarities between this and what actually happened are sheer coincidence lmao anyways this is what SHOULD have happened thank u @ ee
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it and kudos and comments are very appreciated, as always!!
> 
> come and talk to me on tumblr @sunsetsover !!
> 
> <3


End file.
